


Onwards and Upwards

by thereigatesquire



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Bullying, Coming Out, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, M/M, Personal Growth, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereigatesquire/pseuds/thereigatesquire
Summary: Ian Lightfoot knew he wasn't brave. Sure, the epic quest he and Barley had just embarked on helped exponentially, but elves just don't change overnight. Does he have what it takes to confront both his bully and his internal self? Or will someone end up getting hurt?
Relationships: Ian Lightfoot/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	1. Onwards and Upwards: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I agree Onward is not Pixar's best movie, but it is still very good, heartfelt, and enjoyable, and Ian Lightfoot is such an adorable character! However, I think there should have been some other LGBT+ representation besides the one cyclops cop who was on-screen for a brief period of time, so I've decided to remedy that. Besides, who does he think he's fooling wearing that flannel? Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Warnings for homophobic comments made by main antagonist.

Chapter 1

Ian Lightfoot grinned softly at his mother as she danced wildly around the kitchen, whirling around and around as she balanced the plate and cupcake while grasping for the candles, lighter, and fork. Humming to herself, she carefully placed sixteen full candles into the icing, then suddenly snapped another one in half and plopped it on as well. After lighting all the candles, she snapped off the light and slid the plate in front of Ian, beckoning emphatically to Barley across the table as she launched into the happy birthday song. Ian glanced down at the cupcake; the sixteen and a half candles were so tightly clustered you couldn’t see any of the icing. He laughed and blew out the candles as Barley ended with a dramatic musical flair and his mom clapped. He knew it was silly to celebrate half-birthdays, but it was fun nonetheless.  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
He hurriedly got ready for school (trying his best to get the icing off his shirt from when he’d spilled some) and rushed out the door, shouting a goodbye to his mother and brother. As he waited for the bus, he caught sight of another elf across the street, riding an old bicycle in the direction of the high school. Ian’s breath caught in his chest a bit as he stared. The elf across the street had lovely pale green hair and eyes so emerald Ian could see them even from this distance. Clothing-wise, he had on a maroon sweater with a white oxford, dark pants, and brown boots. He was simply the most fascinating elf Ian had ever seen, and he had no idea who he was. The elf across the street kept on pedalling until he had turned the corner towards the school. Ian was frozen in place, until the bus pulled up with a screech and he had to shake himself out of his stupor. What had just happened?  
  
\------------------------------  
  
Ian arrived at school still a bit dazed, but he met up with his friends in the hall anyways. Eudora (the elf), Phemie (the cyclops), Cloch (the troll), and Saturnalia (the faun) were chatting beside the lockers outside of the art classroom.  
“What’s up, wizard boy?” shouted Cloch as a greeting before lightheartedly punching Ian in the arm.  
“Ah c’mon, lay off of him!” Saturnalia --or Satie for short-- reprimanded before turning to Ian, who was rubbing his arm from the force of Cloch’s blow, seeing as he was a huge, purple troll. “You know we fully support your magical endeavors, right Ian?”  
“100%” Eudora piped in, before also fixing Cloch with a glare.  
“Geez, guys, it’s alright,” Ian mumbled. He was incredibly grateful he’d become so close with the science class group in just six months, but they could be a bit overprotective at times. “I don’t mind.”  
Ian wasn’t exactly sure why they were so concerned for his well-being. It was true they were a very kind bunch. And Ian did know he was small and socially awkward; he didn’t mind. Maybe he’d tainted their view of him with that awful, failed birthday invite six months ago?  
As the group continued chatting, Ian’s thoughts drifted back toward the elf he’d seen on the bike, before he caught himself and forced his mind to focus on the conversation before him. What was happening to him?  
“-but I couldn’t remember if it was Sir Lancelot or Sir Gallagar who wanted the Holy Grail so I just put D: none of the above,” Eudora was saying.  
“No! It was A: King Arthur himself!” Phemie responded emphatically.  
Just then, the bell for first block rang and the gang said their goodbyes and scurried off to their respective classes. Ian hurried to Realm History with Ms. Flamel. After taking his seat (still with the feet on his chair back), laying out his pencils, and getting out his notebook, Ian looked up, and froze. There, in the front of the room, was the elf from this morning.  
“Class, this is Basil Glendower. He’s just transferred here,” Ms. Flamel introduced, “Basil, have you got your schedule and all of your paperwork?”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Basil responded. His voice was warm with the barest hint of some accent, potentially Irish. From here, Ian could see they were about the same height. Basil was a bit heavier than he was, but then again, who wasn’t?  
“Good, then you may take your seat,” the teacher said, then launched into the day’s lesson. “We’re going to start off today by talking about gender and sexuality in classic myths.”  
Someone in the back groaned.  
“And I expect everyone to be respectful and pay attention” Ms. Flamel said sharply. “Now, how important are heteronormative relationships to classic fables? We all expect the male centaur to end up with the female, or the sparrowmen to date the fairies, but how much of this is how the tales were originally intended?...”  
Ms. Flamel’s lesson was very interesting. She went through a few of the most classic tales and portrayed them in a different light. At one point she even explained how a possible mistranslation had changed the Little Merman to Mermaid. She did have to interrupt herself a few times to explain some of the terminology to the more ignorant students (“Uhh, what does transgender mean?” asked one particularly dull bloke). Ian was familiar with all of the words --he was a modern teen after all-- but he’d never really thought about what they meant, and he’d certainly never applied them to his own life, though now he started to wonder…  
Three-quarters through the lesson, a student in the back stood up and rudely said, “Why are we even talking about this crap?” Ian whipped his head around. It was Gremory. Of course it was Gremory: the huge, muscled goblin who revelled in making life miserable for anyone he deemed vulnerable. Ian had been on the end of his insults a few times, usually in reference to his magical ability, though a few times because of his beanpole stature. Gremory continued. “I mean, this is all BS. Just some freaks who wanted to mess with classics to make themselves feel better.”  
The class was shocked silent. Then, a voice spoke up. “And maybe some people make a scene in class because they feel insecure when their bigoted mindset gets challenged?” It was Basil, the new elf, the boy Ian had been trying not to think about all of class.  
Gremory was outraged, though he had enough common sense to not verbally assault the new kid on his first day of school. Instead, he glared around the room to find another target to turn his outrage on. Unfortunately, he met Ian’s eye. “What are you looking at, smallfry? I bet you like these perverted fairytales huh, you magicky weirdo?”  
Ian couldn’t respond to this direct confrontation, and he slid slowly down in his chair. Ms. Flamel stepped in. “That is quite enough, Gremory! Go out in the hall immediately!”  
He stomped loudly out the door, and shut it none too quietly. Ian was too distressed to pay much attention to the rest of the lesson. As soon as the bell rang, he grabbed his bag and flew out the door, almost running to the secluded corner by the water fountains in the back of the school. He slid to the floor and sat for a little while, breathing deeply. He didn’t really know why he was so upset; he’d heard some of Gremory’s bullying before. Was it because of his inability to stand up for himself? Hadn't he changed since he and Barley’s quest? There did seem to be some kind of ideological difference between defying the police in order to complete your dad’s dying wish versus confronting a school bully. Or was it because it was all so public? That it had happened in front of everyone, including in front of--  
Basil. Who was now standing directly before him. A hand reached down gently, offering to help Ian to his feet. Ian accepted it, and stood up slowly, until he was eye-to-eye with him. The emerald green was even more magnificent up close.  
“Are you alright, mate?” Basil asked concernedly. “That goblin seemed like one nasty bugger.” He shuddered slightly just thinking about him.  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ian smiled weakly as he hiked his bag farther up one shoulder.  
“Ugh, I can’t stand bullies!” Basil burst out suddenly, starting to pace a bit. “They’ve just got such obvious anger management issues. There are so many better ways to get anger out of your system! They really ought to try rugby. Do you have rugby over here?” Basil paused in his pacing to inquire of Ian.  
Ian, a bit overwhelmed and engrossed by the dynamic figure who had suddenly appeared in front of him, managed to stammer out a no before Basil went on. “That’s surprising, seeing how big this school is. I saw your sporting fields out back; they’re very impressive. You lot have got tennis courts, basketball tarmacs, and even a brand-new football pitch from the looks of it. It’s all very exciting.” By this time Ian and Basil had begun to wander back slowly in the direction of the classrooms, but now Basil paused and turned to look at Ian face-on. “I’ve just remembered: what did that vulgar bloke mean by ‘magic’?” Suddenly looking embarrassed, he quickly added, “If you don’t mind me asking?”  
Ian’s heart sped up again. “Uhm,” he stammered, “He meant…” Ian didn’t know what exactly to say. He wanted to tell the truth, but he also, for some reason, really didn’t want to alienate the elf standing before him. He didn’t want to scare him away, like he did so many others. He took a deep breath. From your heart’s fire, he thought. “He meant I can actually do magic. I found out six months ago that I can perform spells and whatnot, just like the wizards from the folklore we were talking about today.” He glanced nervously at Basil’s face, expecting to see disgust or alarm, but instead found only wonder.  
“Really? Like, real, honest-to-goodness magic? Whenever you want?”  
Ian relaxed a bit. “Yeah, I can show you now, if you’d like.”  
Basil was ecstatic. Ian could almost see the excitement radiating from him. “Please! I’ve always heard the whispers about magic existing at some point, but I never could have imagined it actually being real!”  
Ian reached into his bag and pulled out a rough stick, about a foot in length. At some point during the six months since his sixteenth birthday, Barley had had the great idea to fashion a more portable magical instrument: a wand made of another enlarged splinter. Now, Ian held it carefully and thought for a minute before deciding what to do. “Do you have a pencil?” Basil handed him one. Ian tossed it into the air and said “Aloft alevar!”  
Basil stared flabbergasted at the levitating pencil. Ian smiled, then flicked it up so it stuck in the ceiling, a good ten feet up. “Bridgerigor invisia!” he called as he jumped up and landed on seemingly thin air. He hopped up on a series of invisible platforms before retrieving the pencil and coming back down. He handed it to Basil, who was entirely, completely shocked. After a solid minute, Basil reanimated, sputtering a baffled and amazed “no way, mate” before launching into full blown speech. “That was bloody incredible! That was real magic! Real, brilliant magic! Fantastic! How do you do it? Did you suddenly learn? Can your family do it too? Have you been on the telly?...” he continued walking and talking until they had arrived at Ian’s next class.  
“Um, I actually have to go,” Ian admitted sheepishly, gesturing to the classroom. “We could talk after school, if you want?” He braced himself for Basil’s answer.  
“Of course! This is amazing! You are amazing! I have so many questions!”  
“I can tell,” Ian said, though he blushed at the compliment.  
Basil turned, still talking even as he walked away. Ian smiled, and went into class.  
  
\----------------------------------  
  
They met after school, outside at the sidewalk corner. What Ian was afraid had been momentary astoundment had endured, with Basil’s continued full enthusiasm. They spent a while talking that day, and the next, and the next. Ian learned a lot about Basil too, due to his energetic motor mouth. He had moved here just a day before he started school, he loved pesto pasta and mint milkshakes, his favorite number was four, he loved literature, and he was deeply superstitious (Ian had learned this last bit when Basil had absolutely flipped out after Ian opened an umbrella indoors accidently).  
Ian introduced him to his other friends, and they all got along wonderfully, especially Basil and Eudora, as they both had a penchant for elocution.  
Ian also introduced Basil to his mother and brother, who both adored him. His mother loved his manners and slight accent, while Barley appreciated his interest in history and magic.  
That’s not to say Ian’s life was going perfectly. Gremory’s antics hadn’t stopped. In fact, just the day after the embarrassing incident in class when Basil had first arrived, Gremory had stopped Ian in the hall between fourth and fifth block. “Do you think you’re clever?” Gremory had sneered, backing Ian up to the lockers.  
“Wh-what do you mean?” Ian stuttered, knees shaking visibly. He reprimanded himself silently in his head. C’mon, you’re better than this Lightfoot! Get it together!  
Those thoughts went out the window when Gremory slammed a fist above Ian’s head and leaned further over him. “I know you think you’ve got it good now that there’s another freaky elf to fight your battles for you, but you’re dead wrong. You think you’re special? You’re nothing.” He leaned back and flexed one huge arm before turning and striding away. For the second day in a row, Ian fled to the drinking machines and slid to the floor. When he met up with Basil later that day, he didn’t tell him what happened.  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
One day, about a month and a half after meeting Basil, Ian learned something new. They were up in Ian’s room, chatting about Basil’s life before he had moved, when Basil said “Yeah, it was a good thing I had broken up with my boyfriend a solid five months before the move or that would have been bloody rough.”  
“Sorry?” Ian asked. He had been looking out the windows at the unicorns rooting through the trash again and hadn’t quite heard.  
“I said fortunately I broke up with my boyfriend way before the move. He had a bit of a temper.”  
“Oh,” Ian said. His mind started whirring. He looked at Basil, who was in turn watching him.  
Basil’s eyes with suspicion, the one and only time Ian had seen that expression on his face. “You don’t have a problem with that? Do you? That I’m gay?”  
“Of course not,” Ian said quickly. “Just surprised.” Though now that he thought about it, he really shouldn’t have been. He knew stereotypes were dangerous, but the meticulous way Basil dressed, with his pressed shirts and shined leather shoes and patterned pants were certainly suggestive. But then again, Ian himself dressed rather differently than most of the boys at school, with his cuffed jeans, converse, and ever present flannel… It was really more a testament to how little Ian thought about these things than any kind of conscious decision. Though he had started thinking about it more...  
He shook himself. Basil had relaxed by this time and had continued talking about this and that. Ian listened more carefully now, though he had a feeling that something had shifted.

\---------------------------------


	2. Onwards and Upwards: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for homophobic comments made by main antagonist, as well as physical violence perpetrated by said character.

This shift made itself obvious a month a half after that conversation, or three months since he had met Basil Glendower. They were laying out in the front yard of Basil’s house --a squat, pea green affair-- watching the stars and the slowly passing clouds. The moonlight was wonderful. They laid head to head and Ian pointed out constellations while Basil told the legends behind each one. A cloud passed in front of the moon and they fell silent for a bit. When it reappeared, Basil flipped over so he was on his stomach and looked right at Ian. He looked nervous, which was strange. Ian watched him as he took a deep breath and said: “Ian, I think you’re wonderful; absolutely brilliant.” Which took him by surprise, but he also had an idea where this might be going, with the moonlight and stargazing and all that. He braced himself as Basil continued. “And I think I’m in love with you.” Basil was nothing if not straightforward.  
Ian, who had been doing a lot of grappling and soul-searching, had a reply ready. “And I think I’m in love with you.”  
Basil grinned the brightest grin anyone could ever give, and flipped back over to look at the stars once more. Both elves reached a hand slowly up towards the other until their fingers barely brushed, and they both smiled.  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
Obviously Ian Lightfoot had no problems with non-hetronormative relationships. He was a kind person in general and had never seen the reasoning behind denying love. He swore his mother and Corey had a thing for each other sometimes. He had known about different sexual identities for a while, but had never thought about applying any to himself. It wasn’t that he’d assumed he was straight or anything; he just hadn’t really cared either way. Now he did.  
He knew he had been in love with Basil Glendower since that first day at the bus stop. There was no other word to describe the complete joy, warmth, and excitement he felt each time they caught one another’s eyes. He told his mother and Barley, and they were simply ecstatic. Ian wasn’t surprised; he knew he was so lucky to have such a supportive family.  
Nothing much changed in his and Basil’s relationship. They still spent hours talking and working on projects and playing games. Ian wasn’t much for physical contact besides hand-holding, which they did in each other’s houses and in secluded parks. Ian didn’t want to hold hands in public, and he didn’t know why. Well, actually he did, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself or anyone: he was afraid of what others would think or do or say if they saw them, and he was furious at himself for it. And it wasn’t just fear of Gremory, though he played a large role. In fact, just a few days before the stargazing confession, Gremory had accosted Ian after school. He had been on his way to Eudora’s house with some papers they needed for a project when Gremory had appeared from around a corner and marched directly for him. Ian wasn’t cowardly enough to run away, and held his ground rather firmly, which he was proud of himself for. Gremory’s harassment had never been violent after all, intimidating as it was. Gremory came right up to him and said dangerously quietly, “You’ve been spending a lot of time with that Basil-kid, haven’t you?”  
Ian didn’t know how to respond, so he remained quiet.  
“I need you to do something for me. Tell ‘im to quit making me look like a fool, huh?”  
Ian said slowly, carefully, “Maybe you should stop saying awful things then.” He was very proud of himself for a split second, before Gremory grabbed his shoulder roughly and yanked him around the side of the school. He pushed him hard against the wall, and Ian only barely prevented his head from slamming too hard against the brick, though he still knew there’d be a good-sized lump.  
Gremory leaned in close, his breath smelling like the old pizza from the cafeteria. “I don’t think you understand. I hate being made to look dumb, and that Basil keeps doing it.” He emphasized the next bit. “If. He. Doesn’t. Stop, You. Will. Get. Hurt. Get it?” Ian nodded weakly. “Good.” Gremory gave him another shove and stalked away.  
Ian shakily gathered the papers he had dropped and hurried off to Eudora’s.  
He didn’t tell Basil to stop for two reasons: 1) he knew Basil would figure out why he had asked and go to confront Gremory himself, and Ian didn’t want him to get hurt, and 2) privately, he viewed it as an act of bravery, to quietly stand up against wrong on his own. He didn’t tell his family because he wanted to keep some semblance of personal pride, to think he could deal with his classmates by himself.  
At one point, he did wonder why Gremory didn’t pick on Basil himself. As he viewed another of the verbal rows between the two in class, however, he had his answer. For while Gremory talked loudly and tried to assert himself, Ian could see desperation in his eyes. Gremory knew Basil was confident and could talk circles around him. He knew he wasn’t vulnerable. And it disgusted Ian to know how Gremory thought about him in turn.  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
To celebrate their second month of dating (or whatever they called it, it still seemed like such a foreign term) and fifth month since meeting, Basil and Ian went out, together, to the Round Table Pizzeria near the town’s center. Ian was nervous, which luckily Basil found endearing, and he spilled two cups of water in a row. To calm him, Basil took hold of both of his hands and held them tightly across the table. It worked. They had an enjoyable evening, and Ian was reminded of how lucky he was to have such great friends, a supportive family, and Basil himself. They had reclasped hands at the end of their meal and were talking quietly. Basil leaned a bit forward and Ian came to meet him. They were in a booth near the back of the restaurant, so it didn’t feel improper when Basil gently touched his forehead to Ian’s, pale green hair mixing with blue. “Is this okay?” Basil asked.  
“Yes,” Ian replied. They held it for only a moment or two and then separated, smiling wide. Ian, a touch abashed, glanced about the restaurant. And he froze. There, standing by the entry, scowling fiercely and looking like he’d been watching for a while, was Gremory himself. As soon as he was sure Ian had made eye contact with him, he whisked out the door before Basil saw him.  
Basil noticed Ian’s consternation. “What’s wrong?”  
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Ian said quickly. “I just, uh, remembered I’ve got a history essay due tomorrow that I forgot about. Yeah.”  
Basil laughed. “And you’re usually so organized!”  
“Ha, yeah,” Ian chuckled weakly. They left quickly after that, and Ian hurried home alone.  
  
\---------------------------------  
  
Ian lived the next day like a dead elf walking. He glanced furtively wherever he went, but ominously, Gremory wasn’t anywhere to be seen, not even in his classes. Ian wouldn’t put it past him if Gremory had skipped for the sole reason of making Ian uneasy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his nervousness, so he avoided all of his friends, Basil included. When school ended, he headed straight home, and Gremory didn’t accost him. He was planning on just staying in his room all night, but sometime around 8 o’clock, he discovered he didn’t have his wallet; he had left it back at the pizzeria the night before.  
He sent a quick text to Basil (who had texted him many times asking if he was feeling okay) saying he had left his wallet at the pizza place and would text him when he got back. Without a goodbye, he grabbed his backpack, slipped out of the house, and headed towards the Round Table Pizzeria.  
  
\---------------------------------  
  
It wasn’t busy at all when he got there, and he ran right inside up to the hostess’s stand. They had his wallet, and he pocketed it quickly and turned to leave. As soon as he stepped out the door, he felt several rough hands grab him and pull him a short ways to an old alleyway on the deserted end of the parking lot before throwing him roughly down. Town center wasn’t the nicest place, and there were several alleyways and areas people refused to go near, like the one Ian was now in.  
Stunned, Ian glanced at his assailants. Impossibly (but really, not surprisingly) there stood Gremory, as well as two of Gremory’s “friends” (more like cronies) he couldn’t tell apart.  
“I know you saw me last night,” Gremory said menacingly, “And now I know why you refused to tell Basil off.” He laughed a joyless laugh. “You’re queers! You are the freaks Ms. Flamel was talkin’ about that day in class. No wonder you both got upset.”  
“I think any decent person would have got upset.” Ian said quietly.  
“Excuse me?” Gremory asked, dangerously softly.  
“I said, I think any decent person would have got upset! You’re just an intolerant, prejudiced, bigot, and I’m not putting up with this anymore!” Ian turned to go, when he felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and whirl him around before marching farther down the alley. Ian writhed and struggled, but Gremory’s friends were just as large and muscular as he was, and Ian really didn’t stand a chance. After yanking his backpack off him, they pinned him against the back wall, one holding each arm. Gremory came slowly toward him, the orangey streetlamps creating a menacing backlit effect.  
When he came close enough, Gremory whacked him across the face, open palmed. It hurt much worse than he’d anticipated, and his eyes watered profusely, but he didn’t make any noise. Gremory frowned and cocked his leg back, driving it hard into Ian’s shin. Again he didn’t make a sound. He did, however, ask a question. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”  
“Ha, you already had that chance. I told you, you coulda told Basil to cut out all his fancy comebacks and to stop making me look like a fool in front of the class, but you didn’t, and now there’s nothin’ you can do.” He paused, and grinned in a way that could only be described as evil. “Also, I just found out you’re a gay, so now there’s really no stopping me.”  
Ian leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. How could he deal with this maniac who was so convinced he was right? He couldn’t, but he vowed to at least keep his composure. Perhaps it would show his courage, or at least protect Basil. The blows kept coming. A hit to his shoulder, rib, stomach. A punch that struck his cheek full-on, and one that probably broke his nose. And as each pummel became harder and harder to bear, Ian realized he made an awful mistake. The realization hit him with the force of any one of Gremory’s punches: he shouldn’t have tried to do this on his own. He was a classic victim of bullying. He’d been told over and over growing up to seek help if someone ever threatened him or another classmate, and what had he done? Nothing. It wasn’t courage or bravery to bear this: it was stupidity. Stupidity that was possibly lethal and at the least very damaging. The shame of the realization made him hang his head in despair.  
Gremory didn’t stop, delivering a few more blows before slamming the knuckles of his hand into the side of Ian’s head, causing the world to grow gray and fuzzy. Gremory’s cronies could feel him go limp.  
“Ah, did I knock ‘im out?” Gremory asked with no remorse in his voice.  
One of the cronies felt Ian’s pulse. “Yeah, seems like it.” They dropped him to the ground and waited for him to wake up, when they heard a voice from the other end of the alley.  
“What do you think you’re doing?!” cried a concerned and frantic Basil upon seeing what was happening down that dark alleyway.  
“Oh good, it’s you,” growled Gremory menacingly, as he and his two friends began stalking down towards him.  
Basil may have been bigger than Ian, but he still wasn’t anything close to being able to fight Gremory, let alone two of his friends as well. Nevertheless, Basil’s fiery nature won out, as well as his concern for Ian, and he held his ground, dropping into a fighting stance as the three goons approached, though the fear was clear in his eyes.  
“Oo, good, this one’s a fighter!” laughed Gremory derisively. “That one sure wasn’t.” He gestured behind him to where the crumpled form of Ian still lay. “Just stood there and almost cried. I’d heard you gays were soft, but that’s just ridiculous.”  
Basil’s eyes widened. So Gremory had found out he and Ian were together. Was this why they had beat Ian up? Why Gremory had been extra awful recently? Why Ian had acted so strangely? He braced himself as they got closer.  
Ian chose this moment to wake up. He opened his eyes blearily, and was suddenly, overwhelmingly aware of 1) how much his body hurt, and 2) that Gremory and his gang were moving away from him and towards a very familiar figure at the other end of the alley. He was suddenly hyper-alert. They were going to do something awful to Basil if he didn’t take action right now. As the two cronies grabbed hold of Basil’s arms despite the latter’s best efforts (though he did seem to be visibly panicking), Ian spotted his backpack, lying a few feet away. He got an idea, and tried to shuffle-crawl his way towards it. Movement felt like torture, and his eyesight started going fuzzy again, but he managed to grab the bag, and from it, took out his wand. Just as his field of vision went fully black, he aimed the wand at Gremory and his cronies, shouted “Magnora gantuan!” and blacked out.  
  
\---------------------------------  
  
He woke up in some white room. He opened his eyes slowly, slowly. He was in a bed, a hospital bed, and beside him was Basil, Barley, and his mom. They were chattering softly, but stopped once they saw he was awake. “How are you feeling?” his mom asked softly.  
“Sore,” he replied, with a flickering smile. They all laughed quietly. To his surprise, Barley was crying. “Are you okay?” Ian asked him.  
“It’s just… you look like dad did, when, you know...”  
Ian's breath caught a bit in his chest. He shook his a bit to clear it, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. After wincing, he asked Basil what had happened.  
“When you didn’t text later like you said you would, I got worried. You’d been acting distracted all day, and there are some parts of town center that aren’t exactly safe, you know? So I biked down and saw Gremory’s car in the pizzeria parking lot. When I took a look around, I heard some voices and uh,” he winced, “punches, coming from the alley. Well, I assume you remember the next bit?”  
Ian’s grimace answered for him.  
“Well, then you cast your spell, and it worked!” Despite the circumstances, Basil was still impressed with the display of magic. “They shrunk! Right there in front of me! So then I just picked them up by the backs of the shirts, ran across the parking lot into the pizza place, and called 911 and your mother after putting Gremory and his friends into a takeout bag.” His triumphant retelling stalled a bit, and he said more gravely, “And then I went back to the alley. When I saw you, crumpled so small all the way at the other end, not moving, I thought- I thought…” He trailed off, and Ian reached over to pat his hand to show he didn’t have to keep going. They were all a little teary at this point.  
His mother joined in. “Why did this happen, Ian? How long has it been going on? The bullying?” she asked breathlessly, heartbrokenly.  
Ian looked at her, then glanced down sadly. “It happened because he was a maniac I thought I could reason with on my own, and it’s been happening for,” he paused to think, “five months now.”  
His mother gasped smally. He jumped in to reassure her. “It wasn’t violent, really. I didn’t get beat up before today. I just- I thought it would be best to deal with it myself. It would keep everyone safe and I would prove to myself that I can be strong, even in everyday situations. Obviously, I see now I was wrong.” He glanced up and met Barley in the eye. “It’s just, you’re not scared of almost anything!” Turning to Basil he added, “And you too. You’re so brilliant and confident, and I thought if I could deal with my own problems, I might be a bit more like that too. But I think Gremory was counting on that. Counting on the fact that I wouldn’t go to anyone.”  
“Ian,” Barley said, taking one of his hands, “I may not be scared of much, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own problems. And I go to mom and you with them. Remember a week ago when I was having doubts about the future? Who did I tell, huh? Who helped me out?”  
“Me,” Ian answered, smiling softly.  
“Exactly, and that’s just the most recent example.” Barley exhaled. “Look, I’m always gonna be here for you, and you’ve got to remember it doesn’t make you weaker to talk to someone; it makes you stronger.”  
They talked for a bit longer, before a nurse made them leave so Ian could rest. He stayed in the hospital just one more day, and found out he had a broken nose, rib, and moderate concussion, and had reinjured the shin he hurt fighting that stone dragon eleven months ago.  
Gremory and his cronies did go to jail. It wasn’t a hard battle, given the witness (Basil) and the nature of the injuries. As Gremory was being led out of the courtroom by the police, Ian took Basil’s hand and clutched it tightly. He held it so Gremory could see. He merely scowled.  
  
As he healed, Ian had plenty of time to think. To think about what being strong meant to him now, and how his two big ordeals had compared. For while the first, a grand quest that happened eleven months ago, felt more exciting and fanciful, the one he was still recovering from was nothing if not grounded in reality. And while it did have poor decisions, guilt, and lots of pain, he’d gained a truer and more realistic view of himself, and (glancing over at Basil, still sitting beside him) something else too.  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: all unoriginal characters property of Pixar Animation Studios

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all unoriginal characters are property of Pixar Animation Studios


End file.
